Christmas Box Set

by Nella Tyler

  Not only had he decorated the place well, but it was clean from top to bottom, and not just the rushed someone’s coming over today clean. You could tell he prided himself in maintaining his living quarters. I should know; I walked through people’s homes for a living. It was amazing how many people had to be reminded to do a thorough cleaning before a showing. I carried business cards for a local cleaning company that I suggested to more difficult clients.

  Blaze gave a hearty laugh, his green eyes sparkling with that playful, magnetic light. He had on jeans and a Seattle Fire Department sweatshirt, but his feet were bare. He’d let his hair dry the way it had wanted to after getting out of the shower, and it was a ridiculously attractive wavy nest of auburn bedhead. I liked a man who didn’t try too hard.

  “No beer lamps and pinup posters here,” he said, once his laugher was under control.

  “You’re surprisingly civilized, considering you beat your chest for a living,” I said, managing a straight face, though the corners of my mouth were twitching badly. I pressed my lips together more tightly to avoid giggling again.

  He didn’t answer that, just cranked up the power on that devastating grin before turning to crack open the oven and check on the meatloaf. “That’s perfect,” he muttered to himself, sounding pleased. He put on two oven mitts and pulled out the steaming dish, leaving it resting on one of the unused burners.

  I watched him, fascinated by how he moved around the kitchen as he took the boiling pot of potatoes off the stovetop and poured them into a waiting strainer in the sink in a puff of steam. He put the potatoes into a bowl and mashed them with a pastry cutter, putting in butter, salt, pepper, and a dollop of milk until they were creamy. He turned off the stove, put on a single oven mitt, and reached in to pull out a second dish, this one full of baked asparagus.

  “Are you ready to eat?” he asked, auburn eyebrows raised, his green eyes enormous. I’d never been more attracted to him than I was at this moment. I liked that he didn’t buy into the masculine bullshit so much that he’d never learned his way around a kitchen. He wore his masculinity with a cool, easy grace that wasn’t obtrusive or annoying. Lisa had briefly dated a police officer who’d turned us all off after the nonstop barrage of how much of a man he was — and that was over a single night of drinks at our favorite bar. Lisa never went out with him again after that.

  “Yes, I’m starving,” I replied. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Open house days were nonstop, with potential buyers streaming in from morning until late afternoon, leaving me little chance to do much more than nibble on a light snack. After they ended, the hunger hit me like a tsunami, and I had to eat right then and there. “This all looks delicious.”

  He pulled two plates from one of the cabinets and handed one to me. “I rented a movie from Redbox for us to watch while we eat. So, fix a plate, and we’ll get it going.”

  “Sounds good.” It impressed me even more that he wasn’t trying anything over the top romantic like a candlelight dinner at the small table I’d glimpsed in the dining room. We’d done that a few times at nice restaurants. Eating here at his house should be a more casual affair, especially for the first time. He never tried too hard. All the good stuff just came naturally to him. I loved that.

  Blaze stepped aside to let me have the first crack at the meal he’d put together. I hadn’t eaten so well since the little Christmas dinner Amy and I cooked together. She was amazing in the kitchen; her father was a chef in a five star restaurant and had taught her most of the tricks he knew. She had zero interest in being a chef, but she loved to cook, which worked out great for Lisa and me. There were several times a month when we would bring the necessary ingredients to Amy’s apartment so we could stand back out of her way and let her cook for us. As long as we paid for the food and cleaned up the mess after she was done, she was happy to make whatever we wanted to eat, appetizer, main course, and dessert — and we took full advantage of her willingness.

  I helped myself to a big portion of meatloaf, my mouth watering at the sight of it, then put two scoops of mashed potatoes on my plate, followed by an ample serving of the asparagus. I didn’t recall ever telling him how much I loved asparagus, and I knew it was out of season, which made this even more of a treat.

  While I’d been serving myself, Blaze poured us both a glass of white wine. I took mine along with some silverware and walked out to the living room, settling into a place on the couch that was near the middle so we’d have to sit close to each other. Blaze came out soon afterwards, his plate piled high with steaming food. I lifted my eyebrows at the sight of it, a small smile rising to my lips.

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  He smiled, too, and my insides warmed up at the sight of it, the tingling starting just a little between my legs at how badly I wanted him. It was a feeling that never really went away, but having him here in front of me made it so much worse. I had no idea how I was going to get through this evening without eventually putting my hands — and mouth — on him. Focusing on my meal would help. But what would I do once I’d finished it? Maybe he’d also prepared a dessert that was sweeter than he was.

  “I do a lot of cardio and weight training,” he replied with an easy shrug. “I need fuel.” Before I could think of a witty reply, he started the movie and turned off the lamp on the table next to the couch, leaving us in the bluish dark.

  I took my first bite of meatloaf and moaned at how juicy and flavorful it was. “This is amazing, Blaze!” I whispered in the quiet moment before the previews started, like we were in a real movie theater and I had to keep my voice down or risk getting shushed.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said, mimicking my whisper, his smile shining at the edge of my vision.

  I devoured my dinner as we sat side by side on the couch, watching the movie he’d picked out, some action flick that I’d never heard of. He took my plate when I finished and set it on top of his on the coffee table. He dropped an arm around my shoulders and brought me closer to him.

  I burrowed into that muscly heat, loving the musky scent of him filling my nostrils now that I wasn’t so preoccupied with the delicious dinner he’d prepared. I wasn’t really following the movie that closely, the bulk of my attention directed towards keeping it together enough to avoid simply straddling him and attacking his mouth while I stripped his clothes off. The thought caused more hungry stirring between my legs that I tried pointedly to ignore, attempting to focus on sipping my wine until that, like my dinner, was finished. I set my glass down on the coffee table next to our plates while a struggle went on inside me that had been troubling me for weeks.

  I wasn’t sure about taking that next crucial step with him. I wanted to, but I kept questioning my instincts. Everything inside me was yearning for him. But then what?

  The strength of the connection I felt between us was frightening. I didn’t know what would happen once I gave into it completely. If it dried up completely, that would be terrible, but what would I do if it actually increased? The heat of that unchecked inferno would burn me alive.

  The movie seemed to go on forever, though it was only about ninety minutes long and full of bright explosions and prolonged fight scenes. Blaze never let go of me. He kept me pressed in close to him, his heat electrifying my skin while he followed the action on his gigantic television — seventy inches, he bragged after I remarked that it was the largest I’d ever seen. When the movie ended, he turned to me, his face illuminated by the low light of the credits on the screen, those gorgeous eyes so dark as they burned into mine, the heat in them stealing my breath as all the air in the room evaporated at once. My pulse was racing. Our faces were mere inches apart. He didn’t speak. He just leaned into me, erasing the distance between us as my lips parted in anticipation.

  The kiss was different this time, more passionate, his tongue pressing into my mouth with a fervent, desperate need. And I felt that hunger inside myself, boiling over, fit to burst. I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him closer as I kis
sed him with the same frantic passion, the heat rising between us, bathing me in need for him until I wanted to scream. My mind flashed once in warning, but that was all. My body had taken over. It knew what it wanted, what it had craved for weeks.

  Blaze pulled back, drawing all the air in the room with him so I could only stare up at him breathlessly, my eyes struggling to focus in the dim, shifting light cast by the enormous TV. He touched my face with his fingertips, the callouses rough on my skin, and I shuddered with pleasure. I wanted to feel his fingers all over my body. I couldn’t wait any longer. My body had been aching for him since the day we met.

  “You’re so beautiful, Sami,” he whispered in a low voice as rough as the callouses on his hands, the expression on his face stoking that heat between us. My insides were tingling, the feeling originating at the hot, wet place between my legs. I was desperate to feel him down there, first his fingers, then his hot, practiced mouth, and, finally, the rock hard length of his cock. I moaned to think of that — having him inside me — and swayed into him a little more.

  I couldn’t answer him, my head was too dizzy with need. I wanted to taste his mouth again, to feel his bare skin beneath my fingers.

  “I’ve tried to take it slow,” he said, still in a purring whisper. “But I want you so much it hurts.”

  I moaned again, unable to keep from leaning all the way in and initiating another steamy kiss. But it didn’t get as far as the last one. Blaze pulled back too quickly, leaving me staring up at him, dazed, at the denial of his lips.

  “Come to the bedroom,” he murmured, so close his lips were nearly moving over mine. “I need to touch every inch of you.”

  I nodded slightly, and that was all the permission he needed to spring to action, leaping from the couch and taking me up with him. We stayed pressed together as we walked to his bedroom, that heat between us unbearable, both of us in a rush to get started. I could feel that hot pulse of energy running though my veins. I wanted him, probably more than he wanted me.

  Blaze’s bedroom had another of those gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows and, without any curtains or blinds covering the glass, it allowed enough of the city’s vibrant light in that we didn’t have to turn on an overhead fixture, even though the sun had set hours before. I smiled at the sight of Blaze’s austere room, everything organized and tidy. He’d even made his bed. I got the feeling that he hadn’t just done that because he knew I was coming over. He was the type of man who did this every day.

  I turned from the tidy bed — he even had decorative throw pillows! Who was this man? — in time to see Blaze pulling his bulky sweatshirt over his head, mussing his wavy hair even more and leaving him standing there in jeans and a thin t-shirt. He made short work of the shirt, tugging it off the way he had the sweatshirt and dropping it into a pool of cloth at his feet, the soft light gleaming on the curves of his sturdy chest. He undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and slid them down his legs, stepping out of them at the end. He didn’t make a move, just stood in front of me in a pair of boxer briefs, letting me look him up and down.

  You could clearly tell this man was in shape when he had all his clothes on, but nothing beat the sight of him wearing almost nothing. I wanted the boxer briefs off him, too. I licked my lips at the long shape of his cock, letting me know how excited he was, how much he wanted me. His entire body seemed to be carved from rich, creamy marble, from his muscled, nearly hairless chest, to his long torso leading to a six pack I wanted to run my fingers over…followed by my tongue. I reached for him, just wanting to make sure this was real and not some beautiful dream I’d wake from to find myself alone and disappointed in bed.

  Blaze stepped back, shaking his head, and grinned at the desperately frustrated expression that crossed my face. “Let me see you,” he said, his deep voice an erotic purr that moistened the crotch of my panties just to hear. I couldn’t believe we’d gone so many weeks without doing this. How had we managed to control ourselves? I was prepared to jump on him to get what I needed.

  I didn’t hesitate, just unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my hips and legs, kicking them off my feet, and pulled my sweater over my head, leaving me standing there in a matching red bra and thong, goosebumps covering every inch of my bare skin. I wasn’t cold — the room was sweltering all of a sudden — it was my body’s way of dealing with the anticipation of finally getting exactly what I’d been yearning for since the night of the fire.

  Seeing him here, just a few seconds away from naked, I could finally admit that to myself. I’d wanted this man inside me since Christmas Day. My cheeks blazed with color, but I was beyond caring. I wanted to be truthful to myself now, to admit how much I wanted this and how silly it was to deny my heart and soul what it was craving.

  We admired each other for a few more seconds, that luscious, nearly unbearable passion building, before moving to close the distance between us at the same time, his arms lifting to wrap around me at the same time mine lifted to enfold him. He leaned to kiss me as I ran my hands over the muscular length of his back and trim middle. His skin was flaming hot, all the fires he fought permanently part of what animated him. His fingers played with the clasp on my bra, freeing it so the pressure released on my breasts. I dropped my arms, letting it fall to the floor, and then got right back to tracing the hard lines of his body, my fingers pressing into so much solid muscle.

  He pulled back, breathing heavily. “I’ve wanted this since the night of the fire.”

  I smiled, dazed by the sight and feel of him beneath my busy fingers. I was running them over his chest, loving the curve of every muscle. “Me, too.”

  He led me to the head of the bed, pulled the blanket and sheets down, and climbed inside. I followed him, naked except for my thong, which I wiggled out of before settling onto the mattress. I didn’t want anything between us, not even a single piece of flimsy cotton. He grinned and followed my example, pulling off his boxer briefs and tossing them onto the ground on the other side of the bed.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, eyes moving all over my body.

  I blushed again, but from pleasure. I’d never get tired of him saying that. I scooted closer to him, pressing the front my body into his, moaning at the heat that ignited my skin. “You look like Michelangelo carved you from the finest Italian marble.”

  “History nerd,” he mumbled, flashing another sexy grin, before wrapping a strong arm around me, pulling me closer so his cock was pressing into my belly. He grabbed a handful of my ass and squeezed, moving me over him as he moaned with pleasure, both of our bodies shuddering at once.

  And then we were kissing again, more passionately than before, his tongue reaching all the way into my mouth, like he was trying to swallow me whole. He shifted, pulling me underneath him and dropping his hips between my legs, the head of his cock tasting some of the warm wetness of my sex. I wanted it to swallow him up to the hilt.

  I lifted my hips in invitation, but he was in no hurry. He took his time kissing me, his hips moving against me only teasingly, pressing the tip of his cock only slightly against my sex, but not letting it enter me. His mouth left mine and traveled down to my breasts, covering my nipple and sucking hard while he pinched the other one between two fingers.

  I made a breathy noise, writhing under the solid shape of him. I ran my hands through his soft, wavy hair, closing my hands into fists and pulling just a little. He moved to the other breast, sucking much harder this time as he pinched the first one. I arched my back, the tingling running from my sensitive nipples down the length of my body and further enflaming the heat between my legs, that hungry ache for him that wouldn’t be satisfied until he entered me. I hadn’t yet let go of his hair. I had an urge to pull out two handfuls by the root.

  “I want you,” I whispered between pants, my cheeks on fire. “Now.”

  He chuckled against my breast, his hot breath on my skin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He slid up my body again, taking himself in hand and pressin
g the head of his cock into my sex, running it up and down between my lips, just playing in that wetness until I was ready to explode. I was soaking wet and ready for him. I had been since just after I walked in the door. Being around this man just cranked the temperature up inside me until I was sweltering hot for him. Even thinking about him was enough to soak the crotch of my panties if I let it go on too long.

  He moved the tip of his cock over my clit, and I moaned behind clenched teeth, lifting my hips again. He attacked my mouth as he keep up the teasing motion between my legs, driving me slowly insane. I kissed him with all the frantic energy welling up inside me, that well of need so deep that I needed him to fill. I wanted him to take me immediately.

  I pulled hard on his body, pressing him into me, but he was too damned strong to be deterred from that slow, teasing motion, just playing in the wet heat of my desire for him. I resigned myself to kissing him, my tongue struggling against his and probing every part of his mouth. He tasted so sweet to me, and the heat from his body was bathing me in pleasurable warmth.

  All of a sudden, he thrust his powerful hips, shifting his entire body, and he was inside me up to the hilt. I screamed with the instant ecstasy, my back arching into him as he began a slow rhythm. I ran my hands over his back, reaching for the powerful muscles in his buttocks, the ecstasy unraveling inside me, starting between my legs where his cock was filling me up so completely and traveling outwards over the rest of my sweat-slicked body.

  “You’re so tight,” he growled, lips close to my ear. His strokes were getting rougher, his hips pressing hard. I opened my legs even more to him, wanting him deeper, never wanting this to end.

  “More,” I panted, already struggling to catch my breath. “Harder.”

  He obeyed, pulling almost all the way out of me and slamming back in, the head of his cock rubbing over the needy, sensitive walls of my canal, that luscious pressure building with every deep stroke. I clenched my teeth, barely able to breathe as he moved on top of me until, finally, that pressure released. My orgasm detonated in my abdomen, soaking his already slick cock, which continued to bury itself inside me. My cheeks were flushed and tingling.